


sometimes it's better when it's publicly

by fiveandnocents



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Established Relationship, Excessive PDA, Fluff, M/M, Montreal Canadiens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 00:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveandnocents/pseuds/fiveandnocents
Summary: You can blame Gally, the less mature part of him says,you can always blame Gally.Except for how he really can’t, because Alex was the one who whipped out the PDA first when he decided it was a great idea to kiss Brendan -on the ice, what the fuck- he just didn’t expect how much Brendan would’ve taken them being suddenly out to the world as a reason to not hold backanythinganymore.Or, five times Brendan flaunts their relationship and one time Alex beats him to the punch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by those incredible moments where the Gallys celly so hard that the internet questions whether or not they just smooched. Pretty sure there was a game in 2015 where this same thing happened, but this was mostly based off the March 2nd game against the Preds this year when Brendan got his first goal in, like, 20 games and Alex never looked so emotional.

Alex can’t really blame anyone but himself. 

_You can blame Gally_ , the less mature part of him says, _you can always blame Gally_.

Except for how he really can’t, because Alex was the one who whipped out the PDA first. He set the standard when he decided it was a great idea to kiss Brendan - _on the ice, what the fuck_ \- so it’s not like he should’ve expected anything different. He just didn’t expect how much Brendan would’ve taken them being suddenly out to the world as a reason to not hold back _anything_ anymore.

-

Like this one time.

-

Alex has a 6 game point-streak going so he’s stuck with the media after their win against the Bruins. He’s tired and he’s alright with the media, but he could really just go for some food and a good cuddle before bed. Instead, in the middle of his answer about why he thinks he’s producing so consistently lately, he gets hit with a ball of hockey tape. 

He ignores it, because media training has taught him something _thank you_ , but he can still see Nate and Brendan giggling and trying to get his attention out of the corner of his eye. No amount of surreptitious glancing their way can help him understand what the hell they want from him and he’s saved from endless confusion by a reporter commenting, “Looks like your teammates want you for something.”

“Ignore them. They need to learn patience,” he says with a smirk, getting a good-natured chuckle from the crowd. It gives him hope that maybe questions like this mean they’ll wrap it up soon. Then, suddenly Brendan is up in his space and Alex automatically wraps an arm around his waist because he is a weak, weak man and habit is hard to break. 

“I want chinese for dinner and Nate wants italian,” Brendan says without so much as a hello - which is only par for the course really. “You gotta be the tiebreaker. And by tiebreaker I mean pick chinese.”

Alex feels his face scrunch up. “But I don’t like chinese.”

Brendan hooks his hands over Alex’s shoulder and rests his chin on the back of them. He has to be standing on his toes; there’s no way that’s possible. “But I got the game winning goal, come on,” he responds, eyes wide and innocent as a lamb.

Alex should say no, because Gally’s goal means he should be dealing with the media still, but somehow he already got them to leave him alone and Alex deserves something _he_ wants instead.

In a move that shocks absolutely no one, he doesn’t say no. 

“Fine,” he sighs, - exaggerating it because that’s what they _do_ \- but Brendan just grins wider and smacks a kiss on his cheek before he retreats back to gloat to Nate.

Alex isn’t dumb. He knows he’s in front of a crowd of cameras and microphones, but Brendan’s one of those people that takes up so much space with their personality that sometimes everyone else just fades away for a bit. Eventually, he does have to look at the cameras again because he has an actual job to do. 

“I’m sorry, um.” Wow, is that an entire puck lodged in his throat? It feels much harder to clear than usual. “Where were we?”

If his face is a little redder than usual - and it is. It very clearly is - no one says anything.

-

Then there is this other time.

-

They’re out with the team after a win against the Leafs and the only surprising thing about the night is that it actually takes Gally a full three shots before he’s trying the crawl into Alex’s lap.

“Gally,” Alex sighs - _reproachfully_ , he’s not encouraging anything here - as Gally succeeds in pinning Alex against the booth with his thighs. Gally doesn’t respond other than attempting to slide his hands under Alex’s shirt. He succeeds. God, they’re going to get kicked out. _Again_.

Patches just winks at him when he looks for a little help in keeping a handsy Gally at bay, which, _honestly_ is no help at all.

Maybe he should be more concerned that his teammates are used to this kind of thing. 

“Brendan, I - seriously, I think someone over there is taking a picture of us.” Alex clearly is drunk too, because sober Alex would know that the threat of being seen only makes Gally _more_ interested and true to form, Gally grinds down (Alex only grabs his hips to stop him from from doing it more, honest) and leans in further to trace his lips around Alex’s ear. 

“If you don’t want anyone to see, then take me home,” Gally whispers, kissing down his neck.

And alright, Alex has no problems saying an enthusiastic yes to that, but Gally needs to actually cooperate in order for them to get out of there before they cross the line into public indecency. Instead, Gally grabs Alex’s face and kisses him so thoroughly that the team whoops and cheers. So it’s not all Alex’s fault that this happens every time, he thinks, as Gally curls his tongue around Alex’s in a slow, sensuous slide, not when the team encourages this kind of _completely inappropriate_ behavior. 

When there are photos of them kissing all over the internet the next day, Alex isn’t even surprised.

-

The next time teaches Alex a lesson he should’ve learned years ago.

-

Alex likes giving hickeys.

It’s not a possession thing, especially since it feels like the whole world knows they’re together by now. He doesn’t need people to see them; that’s more Gally’s thing than his. Alex just likes how Gally gets shivery and runs his hands through Alex’s hair when he’s making one. He usually keeps it contained to Gally’s thighs where they’re hidden more often than not (the locker room just has to deal with them at this point), but there are days when Gally demands them other places too. There’s zero chance he’d ever actually deny Gally anything, but Alex is careful to leave them far below the collar of Gally’s shirts on those days; there’s a difference between the team seeing them versus his parents seeing them.

In hindsight, he may have underestimated how much of a showboat Gally is.

It happens when Gally convinces him to go to Timmies again because sometimes you just deserve a donut and diet plans can go fuck themselves. If Gally only offers to go get donuts when he knows Alex needs one, well, that’s beside the point.

So now they’re in line, hands clasped together in the pocket of Alex’s sweatshirt, when he hears, “Eh, pardon?”

They both turn, because their hands are still linked and they’ve heard enough shy French over the years to know when someone is talking to them because they recognize them or they’re just in the way.

“Hi!” Gally smiles brightly, and the girl grins shyly back. She’s clearly one of those Canadians that’s more comfortable communicating in French than in English, but asking for a selfie is something they’ve heard before. Thankfully, Gally doesn’t attempt any French back at her.

They lean in on either side of her and as Alex sneaks a glance at Gally, his heart shoots up in his throat. Reflected on the screen as the girl sets up the camera how she wants it, he has a perfect view of Gally. He wore a tank under his jacket like a slob since he didn’t want to change just to get donuts. Understandable, except now, his scarf is off, coat unbuttoned, and collar gaping low and wide as he leans down to get in the frame. Anyone with eyes can see the smattering of hickeys and beard burn over Gally’s chest.

And now it’s in photo form and will probably be on Twitter in the next five minutes. Awesome.

Apparently, Alex didn’t look like he got punched in the heart, because the girl nods at the photo and thanks them again in her shy French. She immediately bustles away right as they get to the front of the line to make their order.

The photo is up within 20 minutes and Alex can’t even be mad at Gally this time; he should know better by now.

Gally retweets the photo.

-

The next time is a fluke really.

-

They’re making out on their couch, at the point where they should probably move to their bedroom soon, when Alex’s phone rings.

Gally pulls back, already grinning, and that look on his face only means bad things for Alex, so he ignores his phone and pulls Gally down for another kiss to distract him. The person on the other line will thank him.

Except the phone rings again.

There’s a 95% chance that it’s his sister because there are only so many people in Alex’s life that are that persistent and the usual culprit is currently grinding his dick against Alex’s hip.

There’s no way in hell he’s picking up.

Gally smirks down at him from where he’s pinned Alex to the couch and runs his hands up Alex’s bare chest.

“Sounds important,” he says, which, _bullshit_. Alex rolls his eyes and slides his hands underneath the waistband of Gally’s jeans to grab his ass and shut him up. He feels Gally’s hands slide over his cheeks, Gally petting the beard he not-so-secretly can’t get enough of, and Alex pats himself on the back for his facial hair and distraction techniques.

And then _Gally’s_ phone rings.

Alex is just irritated enough to pluck it out of Gally’s back pocket and snap, “What?” into the receiver. Whoever decided to call both him and Gally when they’re not picking up is a fool and doesn’t deserve kindness for being a knowing and willing cockblock.

“Chucky!” PK greets. Of course.

Alex would immediately hang up if he didn’t know that PK would just keep calling until he picked up again. It’s a fact that PK hasn’t been in Montreal for a while, but that doesn’t mean he should’ve forgotten that when Gally and him don’t pick up, they’re _busy_.

“I’m busy,” Alex warns, which should be enough to remind PK of what Alex is usually busy doing, but PK is dashing all of Alex’s hopes tonight.

Gally shifts back to rest his weight on Alex’s hips, drawing Alex’s attention back from where he was trying to glare the ceiling into submission. The best word to describe Gally’s expression at this point would be _ecstatic_. Alex would feel bad for PK if it wasn’t his fault in the first place for not _taking the damn hint_. 

“Aw, Chucky, come on, we haven’t seen each other in ages and you can’t make time for me?”

PK is cruel. Cruel and stupid, because now Alex feels guilty even though he’s trying to _help_ PK.

“What do you want?” he asks, resigned, as Gally shimmies to pull Alex’s sweatpants and boxers down in one practiced move.

PK doesn’t deserve this. And Alex deserves to get his dick sucked without an audience, but here we are. 

Ten minutes later, PK pauses and stutters out, “Are you- oh, seriously man?” so at this point Alex is fairly sure that once he hangs up, PK won’t try calling again.

“Call you later,” he says, hanging up and tossing Gally’s phone somewhere so he can twist his fingers in Gally’s hair as he comes.

-

Then there’s the last time.

-

PR wants them to do another video for YouTube because apparently coming out means that everyone expects different answers for the same questions. 

They’re set up in the open gym this time, sitting on the turf, since it’s practically the only spot they haven’t had a video together at this point.

Most of it is fun. Gally and him don’t know when to quit giving each other shit half the time (all the time) and these are questions they don’t really ask each other all the time. At risk of sounding like a disgusting sap, he loves learning new things about Gally.

Except when new things throw him for so much of a loop that he doesn’t know what direction he’s in anymore.

It’s right after Alex references the Bengals hat again and how he’s still not gotten anything back (because _hell no_ he will not get over it, _Brendan_ ) and Gally bats his eyelashes outrageously and says, “Aw, but baby your gift was my deep burning love.”

The only logical response to that is for Alex to roll his eyes, but for some reason one of the interns supervising the interview goes and asks, genuinely curious, “You weren’t together back then though were you?”

“No, we were.” Alex doesn’t know why Gally feels the need to share this information, but it’s Gally and if Alex has learned anything by now, it’s that Gally likes showing off their relationship at any and all opportunities.

“Wow,” she sounds genuinely awed, and Alex isn’t sure if he should feel offended or not until she says, “I know married couples that have been together for less time than you have.” And yes, Alex _is_ offended because his relationship is not for her to _judge_ their pace is _just fine thank you_ , and if Alex has wanted to be married to Gally for a long time now then _whatever_ it’s fine; it’s not like you can pine after someone you’re already dating. He doesn’t need to be married to be happy with Gally because he’s always happy with Gally. So he’ll take what he can get. 

“Maybe we’ll be one of them soon, who knows? I wouldn’t mind being a Galchenyuk.” 

Alex thinks his brain takes a tropical vacation for approximately 5 seconds because when he’s able to form a thought again, he feels hot all over, slightly sweaty, and there’s one thought playing on repeat in his head. 

He wouldn’t mind being a Galchenyuk. 

Brendan Galchenyuk.

There’s really only one way to answer a statement like that and it’s ‘I wouldn’t mind being a Gallagher either’. Then they could smile sweetly at each other and be adorable and deliver on exactly what this whole video was put together for. 

Instead, what comes out of Alex’s mouth is: “You’d want to get married?” 

It’s not like he’s never thought about it before (and by never thought about it he means he’s thought about it every day for years because there’s no one else he’d want to wake up next to and share a life with), but there’s thinking about it abstractly, denying the possibility of it, and then there’s knowing that it might actually be an option. An option _right now_. 

Gally’s still smiling, but it’s a little strained now, a little more media and less only-for-Alex, and he laughs. “I mean I wouldn’t say no,” he says, loud and incredulous like Alex is an idiot for thinking that Gally would ever reject him. 

Alex may be an idiot.

But - it’s not like Gally couldn’t have proposed instead if that’s what he wanted. They don’t have like - _roles_ or anything; that’s not they work. Unless. Unless he thought _Alex_ would say no. Which is insane. Because Alex would never say no. He’d say yes a million times if proposing worked like that. 

Maybe they’re both idiots. 

And hey, they’re still on camera and Gally and him are good partners for many reasons, like picking up on each other’s cues. 

“Well obviously,” he says, gesturing to himself. “Who could say no to this?”

It startles a laugh out of Gally and he jumps on the chance to chirp the hell out of Alex about it and thankfully they get through the whole video without any other potential life changing conversations.

But Alex said it before and he’ll say it again, he’s not _that_ stupid, and if Gally can be brave enough to say he wants to get married, then Alex is going to make it happen.

-

So then there’s now.

-

Alex is probably going to throw up, but he’d felt like that all before the game and it hadn’t happened so he can only hope that he won’t. Gally would still say yes, _obviously_ , but the point is that this is for Gally, which means it’s in front of thousands of fans and probably NHL Network and Alex really doesn’t want his vomit to be the highlight of tonight.

He’s got this. He’s talked to PR and the team about it more times than he can count over the last week, so he’s prepared. They won the home opener ( _thank god_ , he doesn’t think it’d be physically possible for him to postpone this anymore) so everyone’s happy. The fans are loving it, energized about a new season and a win to start it off right, and the team is looking at him expectantly. They’ve been preparing for this as much as Alex has, if only so that he’d shut up about his nerves.

Gally’s already hugging him to celebrate the win, so Alex pulls him close to be heard over the roar of the crowd.

“So, I hate doing stuff like this where everyone is watching, but I love you.” Alex feels less like he’s going to fall apart when Gally’s grin gets wider at that. “And you love this kind of thing. So, uh,” and here he looks around frantically, because who’d he give the ring to? He can’t do this without a ring. Did he even buy one? Before he can hyperventilate and pass out - which is objectively worse than throwing up because then he couldn’t run away from his shame - Pricey skates over with a box in hand and claps Alex on the shoulder before he skates away to a respectable distance to watch with the rest of the team.

Okay. Proposing.

Alex must look as panicked as he feels because Gally’s laughing at him now. He looks a little confused as he’s doing it, eyes fixed on the box in Alex’s hand, but Gally’s not one to hold back a laugh at Alex’s expense even if he doesn’t get the whole joke yet. He’s not even trying to hide it or maybe he is, but his giggles aren’t quiet _at all_. Alex wants to marry an _asshole_. 

Fuck it.

He kneels, because if he’s doing this in public he’s doing it right. The crowd seems to go quiet for about half a second and then it roars back to life three times louder than before. Gally tosses his gloves over his shoulder, hitting Pricey in the face, and screams, “Oh my god!” right along with them. Alex shrugs one shoulder, a little more confident now that the crowd is clearly on his side and decides it’s now or never. He opens the box, can see the ring being broadcast over the jumbotron, and waits until Gally’s eyes move back to his face.

He mouths out the words, _Marry me_?

Gally almost yanks his arm out of its socket when he pulls Alex up so that he can bounce and scream, “ _Yes_ , holy shit this is _awesome_.” Alex can barely get him to hold still long enough to get the ring on Gally’s eager hands. The moment he does, Gally grabs his face and kisses him right there on center ice. Alex is probably going to go deaf because the crowd is going absolutely insane.

Later, when Gally is grinning and holding up his ring in view of every camera imaginable, Alex resigns himself to dealing with this loser for the rest of his life. He just smiles and tugs Gally close to kiss the top of Gally’s head.

It’s not like he didn’t know what he was getting into.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song P.D.A. (We Just Don't Care) by John Legend. Honestly, what could fit this fic more than:
> 
> You know I love you when you're loving me  
> Sometimes it's better when it's publicly
> 
> Update: I have a [tumblr](https://fiveandnocents.tumblr.com/)! I haven't done hardly anything with it yet so I'd love to leave you a follow and chat about too many hockey boys


End file.
